“I’m sorry I undermined your confidence in us by not explaining our reasoning for sending Susanna. There were a couple of things at play there, but it wasn’t personal.”
“What things?” Where he came from, making excuses for one’s lack of integrity was bad business.
“There’s a logistical difference in the way we conduct business, Jay. You’re calling the shots down there. Up here, well, every decision makes its way up a chain of command then through the execs and the board before it even leaves Northstar to make rounds through the execs and boards of our partners. That’s corporate. Explaining the decision-making process each step of the way isn’t always practical or even possible.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you sidestepped an issue I was crystal clear about. I don’t care how long the decision took you to make, Susanna’s been here five weeks.”
Four months and three weeks until Jay was finally out of here until the stopwatch reset.
“Either you thought you could slip this one by me or all that making the rounds lets details slip through the cracks, which means Northstar isn’t as top-notch as I thought.”
A heavy sigh on the other end. “No and no. I could have informed you, Jay, and I chose not to because I didn’t want to make Susanna’s job experience too big a deal. I knew once she got on the property, you’d recognize her merit. I wanted to give you that chance.”
“You didn’t think I’d give her a chance?”
“No, I don’t. And—” he hesitated “—to be honest, I didn’t think Susanna would take the chance if she knew she wasn’t what you were looking for. I knew she’d love The Arbors, and I knew she was exactly what you needed. It seemed a good time for you to start trusting us to do our part. You want what we have to offer The Arbors, which means you need to ease up on the reins.”
Now it was Jay’s turn to be surprised by Gerald’s frankness. Had snake-oil salesman been harsh or accurate? Corporate didn’t seem much better. Gerald Mayne was the kind of executive who raked in a six-figure salary and worked up Liberals in the House. But the man sounded so damned rational. He obviously didn’t get that Jay’s entire life hung in the balance of this deal. He couldn’t know. Jay knew that.
And still resented it.
Just as he reached the gate of Maintenance and Engineering, he changed trajectory, headed back the way he’d come.
He also didn’t like how high-handed Northstar had been with Susanna. She’d left her job and New York to take a chance she hadn’t been told she was taking. That told him everything he needed to know about Northstar.
Jay wanted to call off this deal completely. But he couldn’t think clearly. His feelings were too involved. He didn’t want to reset the clock. He didn’t want to leave The Arbors in the care of a corporation he didn’t trust. He didn’t want to thank Susanna for the past five weeks and watch that ultraprofessional distance creep into her lovely face.
What did Jay want?
He wanted out, but he didn’t want the consequences of getting out. Not when he had to deal with people lying to him.
“Let me tell you something,” Gerald said. “Susanna isn’t only my employee. She’s someone I care about.”
That admission came at Jay sideways.
“You care about The Arbors because of your family ties, Jay. Most administrators won’t have that connection. They’ll think of The Arbors as a job. Nothing more. But Susanna isn’t a nine-to-fiver. She’s a nurturer. When she cares about something, she cares big. You’re not going to get what she can give from anyone else. She cares about her employees. About our company. About her patients in health care. About the seniors she served.
“She’s a natural leader. People unify under her. We’ve seen that over and over again in her departments—”
“Then why haven’t you made her an administrator before now?”
“Timing wasn’t right. Considered her for a couple of properties, but she had a lot going on with her personal life. Susanna will take whatever training you give her and turn it into solid gold. That’s who she is. She’s young enough to meet the demands of The Arbors yet at a time of her life where her priorities are changing.”
“I’m still listening.” That was about all he had in him.
“She’s been through a real rough patch, Jay. Her husband was diagnosed with cancer about seven years ago. They fought a tough fight before he died. Then she balanced family and work and single parenthood. She got her kids off to college, and now she’s staring at a future that’s a lot different than what she and her husband had intended. She’s at a crossroads and needs a new direction to challenge her. She and The Arbors were made for each other. It’s that simple.”
Jay heard what Gerald said. He didn’t want anyone else’s well-being heaped on his plate, but he’d seen Susanna’s excitement about the cottage, her new home. But take this man at his word?
“Give her a chance, Jay. You won’t be sorry.”
But Jay was already sorry. Sorry that a woman he was attracted to had shown up here just as he was leaving. Sorry he had to send her away.
The silence stretched as Jay’s whole life unfolded before him. One decision to a man who made hundreds of decisions a day, and had for his whole life, shouldn’t feel as if he was hanging from the edge of a cliff, and the only thing to do was let go.
Only it was a man who considered deception an acceptable tool who was telling Jay to dig his nails in a little deeper, to hang on.
The defiance that gripped him was at odds with the cool rationality in his brain. Jay could think, recognize the urgency for what it was, but knowing didn’t temper the feeling one bit, the need to hit the ground running and not look back.
Jay could almost hear his mom in memory: “Struggling that hard is your first clue that something isn’t right, Jay.”
Instead of feeling burdened by the idea, Jay felt as if a piece had fallen into place, just one maybe, but a piece nevertheless. And another thought occurred to him, another of those pieces snapping into place.
“I take care of me,” Susanna had told him.
Jay sure knew what it felt like to have only himself to rely on. To be all alone in the world, even when surrounded by people practically every minute of every day, people always looking to him to answer their questions and solve their problems, when no one offered to solve any of his.
It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Jay couldn’t say why. He only knew that he understood the feeling and how alone it felt.
That urgency in the pit of his gut still warred with the understanding in his head, but the words were out of Jay’s mouth before he had a chance to think, to question, to regret.
“Gerald, all I can promise is that I’ll give some thought to what you’ve said and get back with you.”
“You won’t be sorry, Jay.”
But Jay was already sorry. He’d done everything within his power to insure The Arbors would be cared for. He was sorry a lifetime of doing the honorable thing didn’t count when he finally wanted something in return.
Circling the corner of the building, Jay stepped out in front of Susanna’s office windows almost defiantly, knowing she’d be there and not caring. He’d saved himself steps with this shortcut all his life, and he was still here....
But Susanna wasn’t behind her desk. The office was empty.
CHAPTER NINE
SUSANNA WAITED FOR JAY to return, was stupidly glad for every second of his absence that gave her a chance to inhale
deeply, easing up the tightness in her chest.
She couldn’t sit still and went to her door, where the daily calendar would have been delivered into the mailbox when Tessa came on shift.
The daily calendar was a simple breakdown of times and activities in an easy-to-read font delivered to each resident with their breakfast.
A reminder that life went on and everyone was encouraged to participate. Activities dictated the residents’ days and provided framework for the staff to schedule ongoing care and medical attention. A busy activity calendar provided quality of life that kept residents interested in living.
She glanced at today’s calendar... Memory Service.
The concept was familiar. Greywacke Lodge conducted a biannual service to remember residents who’d passed away, a memorial by friends who’d been left behind and caregivers that—in many cases—had become fond of the residents. Glancing at the clock, she realized the service would start shortly. Unwilling to miss an opportunity to witness a special program, she left her office, running into Walter on the way.
“Good morning.” She fell into step beside him. “We’re still on for our budget variance review this afternoon?”
“We are.” His face split into a wide grin. “Got you penciled in for one.”
“Perfect.” At least someone around here was happy to see her. Walter might not want Jay to leave The Arbors—he’d been upfront with her about that—but he had come to respect her work, and that had done much toward establishing a good working relationship between them. “I’m heading to the memory service. Does administration usually attend?”
“Always. The service is a big deal. More for the staff and families, of course, but the residents enjoy it, too.”
Susanna understood what Walter wasn’t saying. Many of the residents might not remember the friends they’d lost. She’d read somewhere during her research that memory loss was actually a protection for its victims, but made the reality all the more difficult for loved ones and caregivers.
The Arbors excelled at bridging the two. A lifeline to those with loved ones they didn’t know how to help. That’s what she’d seen since she’d arrived here, had been a part of.
She expected to find Jay in the lobby where the service would begin, but found only Tessa, Shirley and Amber wrestling dozens of huge white balloons.
A balloon Amber held popped with an explosive blat, and she jumped back with a yelp.
“I said gently, Amber,” Tessa admonished. “You’re pressing too hard.”
Amber dropped a marker onto the table that held an assortment of balloons and ribbons. “That’s the third one for me. I don’t think I’m going to get this.” Flouncing away, she circled the desk and sat with a noticeable huff.
Tessa scowled. “Robbie said folks are on their way. I’d like to start the service on time.”
“Not in my job description.” Amber spun her chair around and grabbed a binder from the shelves behind the desk.
Tessa was distracted when several balloons attempted to break away and Shirley let out a loud “Oh, no you don’t” as she lunged for them.
“What may we do to help?” Susanna headed into the fray with Walter keeping pace, glancing at her with an approving smile.
Amber winced and stared at them over the desk, her widening gaze suggesting she hadn’t realized the new administrator had witnessed her rebellion.
Susanna smiled cordially. She knew the drill very well as she had a daughter of similar age. But how lovely that mother and daughter got to share their work.
“Thank you,” Tessa said as Walter reached above her head and caught the escaping balloons. “I need all the help I can get. Got off to a late start this morning.”
“Just tell us what we can do,” Susanna said.
“Dietary is setting up the reception in the dining room as they break down breakfast, so we’re good to go there. Residents will start arriving soon. Family members of all the residents we’re memorializing will be here. The Llewellyns are already inside.”
Almost as if on cue, a PCT accompanying several residents using walkers appeared behind the locked doors. Breaking from the group, Susanna handled the security panel then stepped back as the doors swung wide.
“Thanks,” the male PCT said while maneuvering his charges into the lobby.
“Welcome, welcome,” Tessa called out. “Pablo, how about getting everyone settled over there.” She motioned to one of the huddles of furniture that created a conversation pit. “We’ll keep everyone inside until we’re all here.”
“You got it, Tessa.” Pablo steered a tall woman who wore a bright floral-print dress toward the newly designated waiting area. “Over here, Mrs. Ramsey.”
Susanna gave the door a nudge, which triggered the mechanism into automatic motion. The door shut, and she headed back to where Tessa was parceling out balloons to Walter and her assistant.
There were names printed on many of the balloons.
“You release these?” Susanna asked.
Tessa nodded. “Send them straight up to heaven. Our way of saying we miss you.”
Susanna was charmed. “What a lovely idea.”
“Did you have memory services at your last facility? I’d heard they were pretty common.”
“I’m from Upstate New York,” Susanna explained. “Weather constraints kept us indoors. Our services ran more along the lines of planting annuals in the atrium in spring or hanging Christmas ornaments on the trees in winter.”
“Just two services a year?”
Susanna nodded. Memory care hadn’t been the priority at Greywacke Lodge.
“Let’s remember to keep everyone tight this time,” Tessa cautioned, passing off balloons to Walter. “Last time we had balloons in the oaks. I almost broke my neck getting them down.”
“Wouldn’t have been any problem if you’d have let someone steady the ladder.” Shirley chuckled.
Tessa frowned then leveled a harried gaze at Susanna. “Is Jay coming? He usually says a few words to start the service and introduces the preacher.” She spun on her heel and scanned the lobby. “Who isn’t here yet, either, by the way. Or will you be handling things today?”
“Jay had to take an important call. If he’s not back, I’ll step in. Just introduce me to the preacher and give me a list of the residents we’re remembering.”
Tessa nodded gratefully. “Amber, where’s the list?”
Amber pointed helpfully. “On the table.”
Susanna thanked her and went to grab it, mentally preparing what she would say if Jay didn’t show.
Introduce the service, the preacher...
Thank him for coming, the guests...
Whatever Jay was doing must be really important. She genuinely hoped she didn’t have anything to do with derailing the man from his work today.
Cars pulled into the circle driveway. A four-door sedan moved ahead enough to allow the SUV behind it to have access to the door, as well, both drivers clearly familiar with the drill.
“Okay, we’ve got the Booleys and the Sagetts.” Tessa thrust the rest of the balloons at Walter. “These, too, please. I need to greet the guests. Amber,” she called over her shoulder as the front doors whisked open. “Radio one-west nurses’ station and get someone to send the Llewellyns this way.”
“Got it,” Amber shot back.
Susanna saw another group of people—wheelchairs this time—approaching. She grabbed the door again as Amber hissed to W
alter, “No one’s answering.”
Susanna noticed how Walter, that dear gentleman who wrestled with a massive balloon bouquet, was completely unruffled. “Try Pete. He’s on the floor.”
“And find out where everyone else is, while you’re at it,” Shirley suggested. “We’re still missing quite a few.”
Susanna held the door, smiling and greeting residents as they filed through, some propelling themselves forward ably, others steered by the accompanying PCTs.
“Pete’s not answering, either.” Amber shrugged. She’d done all she could do.
Tessa was already escorting the guests back toward the lobby, chatting and laughing as the front doors shot wide again.
“I’ll go see what’s holding them up.” Susanna slipped past the wheelchair brigade and headed into lockdown.
She moved with purpose through the hallways, noting the number plates beside doors to direct her. A member of the housekeeping staff was maneuvering a cleaning cart out of a resident’s room.
“Mr. Llewellyn’s room?” Susanna wasn’t familiar enough to remember offhand. Might never get a chance to be.
The housekeeper nodded to the left of the nurses’ station and said, “One twenty-six. Bed by the window.”
“Thanks.” Susanna didn’t even slow her stride, taking the corner at full tilt in her practical pumps.
She found the room, glanced at the biographical photo of a hearty man in a photo dancing with a bright-smiling woman wearing a country line dancer outfit.
Joseph Llewellyn, married sixty-four years to Elizabeth.
Father of two.
Grandfather of five.
Great-grandfather of one.
Occupation: Mechanical Engineer.
Originally from Cleveland, Ohio.
The bed by the door was unoccupied and neatly made, and the visiting couple stood at the far end of the room. Susanna strode in, introduced herself and greeted the man in a recliner wedged in an unusual position between the beds. To be close to the flat-screen television, presumably.
The Time of Her Life Page 13